


Sweet Victory

by NotA_Robot



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Fluff, Gen, and since he's an angsty baby any fluffy will sound angsty, how do i do tags, i cant reveal anything more or it ruins the fic, i edited this so many times im sick of it, i know the summary sounds angsty but i promise it's not angst, it's just wash being WashTM, takes place after blue team adopts wash but somehow donut and lopez are there, trust me it's fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-08 01:58:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17972303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotA_Robot/pseuds/NotA_Robot
Summary: Wash has been captured by various enemies countless times. This time is no different. However, the particular torture Wash faces this time is nothing he has come accustomed to. But that's nothing, he's been through Freelancer after all. He just needs to hang in there long enough to see his team-And that's when the noises start.





	Sweet Victory

**Author's Note:**

> I swear to our god, Michael Jesús Caboose, that this is a fluff fic. I know it sounds angsty but it's fluff. I just wanted to write a fluff fic.

Minutes...

 

Hours...

 

Days...

 

Weeks...

 

...Or maybe even months. Wash does not know.

 

And it's all his fault.

 

_It's all my fault._

He was on a mission, at least that's what he thought some time ago. Thinking clearly isn't what he does here now. That part of him is long gone ever since he found himself in this room; thrown out of the door the moment he had forced to step into it.

 

He had expected many different things when he stepped into the room. A torture chamber? Knives and saws? Canes? An electric chair? Or maybe even just some locks and cuffs? 

 

But instead? Wash had stepped into a room that has the walls painted pastel pink, a table with an inconspicuous brown paper bag on it, and

 

_A sofa with many, many pillows._

 

_23\. 23 pillows exactly. No more, no less._

 

Wash does not know what that supposed to mean, nor why the pillows come in different shades of warm colours. All he knows is that it's not something that he is used to.

 

And it scares him.

 

Pain? He understands. Inflicting physical harm on prisoners is the tried-and-true way to get information out of the enemy. Wash also understands psychological torture. Or  _Mind games_. He knows that too well from Freelancer.

 

But he also knows that his team is out there waiting for him. He knows that he will be with them soon, he just needs to hang on a bit longer-

 

And that's when the noises start.

 

Whatever self-imposed calmness he has mustered faltered the moment he hears them. His body instinctively twitches at those noises, And there's a sudden urge to stand up and  _get closer to it._

  

_How...how did they know??_

 

The heavy rock in his heart dropped down, and that's when Wash knew that it's not  _if_  he will betray his team before he's back. It's-

 

" _When."_ He said to himself.

 

Wash sat still on the soft  _orange_  sofa, holding on to one of the pillows. His resolve is about as strong as the soft pillow in his hands.

 

The noises get louder.

 

The pillows do not help to block out the noise.

 

He then tried distracting himself by counting the pillows again ( _23\. 23. 23._ ) and organising them by colours ( _Five. 5 different colours._ ). And when that stopped working, he went picked up the paper bag that was on the table only to find biscuits inside that he  _can't_  eat. 

 

As he walked back to the sofa, holding the bag in hand, a louder than usual noise echos in the room and Wash makes the mistake of looking in the direction of the source.

 

He then realises he's really fucked.

 

He has been avoiding looking in the direction of the noises, either by turning his back towards the noise or by building a literal pillow wall on the sofa.

 

But now he knows. He knows where the noises came from now. A square box at the left corner of the room. 

 

And with the goal now visible in his mind, both his brain and body betrays him.

 

The noises get louder.

 

His brain is now providing excuses for his actions, telling him to  _betray_ his team, that it  _doesn't matter_ that he sells his team out. 

 

_How do I face them after this?_

 

 _Surely they can forgive me for this, right?_ After all, they had given him a second chance, what's another one more? 

 

He fights with himself for a while more, until a particularly sad noise slices through his thoughts, leaving behind nothing but one phrase in his mind.

 

_I'm sorry._

 

The self-imposed chains between his ankles break off, and Wash takes a step towards the box.

 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, just outside the room lies Tucker and Caboose, as well as the whole of Red team looking at the inside of the room that has been projected onto a screen, with Lopez's head as the projector.

 

"How long, Simmons?" Sarge asked without turning his head away, his eyes remained on the screen.

 

"1 minute and 32 seconds left, sir."

 

"Fuck yeah! I knew Wash would make it! Suck it, red!" Tucker cheered out.

 

"Not so fast, Blue," Grif said between the chewing and the stuffing of Oreos into his mouth. "Look." He pointed at the screen.

 

Tucker stopped his premature celebration and looked at the screen. "What? No! Wash! What are you doing!? Stop!! Go back!" Tucker shouted out, walking closer to the screen to take a closer look. His hands are on the screen, trying to push the Wash on the screen away from the box.

 

Sarge exclaimed out: "Ha! Another sweet victory for Red team! Prepare to surrender, Blues! Your leader has betrayed y'all! Now tell us, where's the goddamn Blue flag!" By the time he finishes his sentence, he is holding his shotgun and pointing it at Tucker.

 

"Chúpalo, Azul," Lopez said.

 

"Never!" Tucker rebutted. He turned to Caboose. "Caboose, please do that kicked puppy eyes thing and tell Sarge to stop-" 

 

"You can't do that! It's against the rules!"  Simmons screeched out, raising his hands up in protest.

 

"Er Tucker? I can't do that." Caboose said to Tucker, his eyes however still looking at the screen.

 

" _What?_ " Tucker bewilderedly said, "Why?! We are losing! The reds are going to take our flag!" He protested.

 

"Oh, yeah, but um, you see Tucker, Private Cinnamon Bun promised me cookies for-" 

 

" _Donut bribed you?!!?"_

 

"That's right, Tucker!" Donut said, walking out of the red base kitchen and into the main area with a tray of freshly made chocolate chip cookies in his hands. "I knew you would do that, so I promised Caboose cookies beforehand." Donut said proudly.

 

Tucker, on the sight of losing Blue team's final trump card, grumbled out something like "scheming reds" before grabbing one of the cookies on the tray and turning his body away from the screen. (Donut passed a separate bag of cookies to Caboose, who quickly opened it and started digging into it.)

 

Upon seeing Tucker's dejected form, Donut said: "Oh c'mon Tucker, don't be such a grumpy loser!"

 

"Fuck you," Tucker said grumpily, like a grumpy loser.

 

Donut grabbed the tray that has been passed around and sat down next to Tucker.

 

"Well, look on the bright side. Looks like Wash is having fun!" He chirped.

 

Tucker turned back in his seat to see everyone all smiling fondly at the screen.

 

He then looked at the screen and saw Wash sitting in a pile of colourful pillows (of different shades of Red) that's on the ground in front of the sofa, feeding the three cats that were in the box with treats from the brown bag.

 

And he hasn't seen Wash smiled and laughed like this before.

 

 _Oh well_ , Tucker thinks, taking a bite of the sugary cookie in his hand,  _looks like it's also a sweet victory for Blue team._  

**Author's Note:**

> Have you ever not fed a cat for more than 2 hours and it starts meowing like it has never eaten anything for its whole life? yeah Wash I feel you that's 100% torture I don't blame you. (i actually dont own a cat but anyway)
> 
> Or this is just Wash being a dramatic Freelancer. (probably this)
> 
> Thanks for reading! I wrote this on and off in the span of 3 days and spent the rest of the week hesitating whether I should post this. I hope this isn't as bad as I feel it is.
> 
> My Tumblr: https://bleepbloop-caboose.tumblr.com/


End file.
